Voldy Needs A Noble Heir
by Anastazia du Beaumont
Summary: Cloe Timperley has the noblest, purest blood of any student at Hogwarts. On the standard train trip to the start of another dreary year at school, she's the prime vehicle for Voldemort to utilise in his quest for immortality...An heir.


"A pumpkin pasty, please," I requested from the Trolley Lady as I approached her in the corridor of the Hogwarts Express.

"And a big, thick liquorice wand, as well, please," smirked Harry Potter, squeezing the hand of Ginny Weasley in what he hoped was an undetected promise of delights to come._ I_ detected, and was traumatised.

"Ooo, Hawwy! I luuurve when you give me thick, fat wands," Ginny giggled in response, and the two shuffled off laughing with their purchase to a compartment at the back of the train, leaving the Trolley Lady and I really, really sickened!

The Boy Who Lived was seriously fucked. His sexual preferences were well known throughout the school after Ernie Macmillan had accidentally stumbled upon the Room of Requirement in his quest for food, and discovered Harry and Ginny's rotting pile of sexually abused liquorice wands and Butterbeer bottles.

"Thanks," I murmured, collecting my pasty and making my way back to my abandoned compartment, alone, as usual. The outcast Slytherin, despite my blood purity. I was of _such_ high ranking, that instead of inspiring deference in my peers, I evoked envy, jealousy and anger. I was a big loner. I was the living Moaning Myrtle.

When would Cedric Diggory notice _me_? Why was he always pre-occupied with Cho Chang, making googly eyes at her from across the Great Hall!? As if she could even reciprocate the affectionate gaze; could she even see out of those slits!? Stupid plate face. Sometimes I believed that not only was blood status an issue at Hogwarts, but race as well. I didn't care if Cedric was in Hufflepuff, or that he was just a half-blood, though my parents would burn my face off the family tree tapestry if they ever discovered my unrequited love. I was in love with him, and Cho was _so_ gay.

It was as these depressing thoughts swelled up in my brain that I felt a cold, clammy hand clasp around my waist and tug me into a darkened compartment.

"What the-" I began, fumbling for my wand.

"_Levicorpus_," came a cold, clear voice, and I flew into the air, held by the ankle. That voice sent shivers down my spine. "_Muffliato_," it repeated, and my shouts were quickly suppressed and silenced.

"_Lumos_," came another voice, female this time, but deranged and with an edge of hysteria. The charm illuminated the small space, revealing the excited, pallid face of Azkaban escapee, Bellatrix Lestrange, and then, more horrifyingly, the snake-like, painful face of…Lord Voldemort! My master!

"Mmm, Miss Timperley," he cooed. "Of the purest blood, of one of the noblest families. Yes?"

I nodded meekly, wondering what these two could possibly want with me, just a girl, a student! I was loyal to the old ways, had never renounced the Dark Lord! What could they possibly seek!?

"Mmm, yeeeeesssss," he hissed, as a great big snake coiled around his neck, out of nowhere.

"Now, my Lord? Now?" Bellatrix pleaded, her black eyes flitting from my upside down face to Voldemort's quickly. Voldemort licked thin, cracked lips and grinned sadistically.

"Yes, Bellatrix. Now."

"_MASHLOOKA MISHLOO_!" cried Bellatrix, and my robes magically disappeared! I tried to thrash myself free from my invisible chains, but they only laughed! High, cold shrieks of laughter. Shrieking shacks, both of them!

"The purest of bodies! Such…pure blood," Voldemort sighed, eyeing me off.

_What the fuck…is this?_ I thought.

"Release the prisoner, Bellatrix," Voldemort commanded.

"_Relashio_!" And suddenly she was upon me, fumbling, kissing with her slimy lips, groping, her unclipped, yellowing nails scratching at my skin. Voldemort cackled, stroking Nagini's smooth scales up and down, faster and faster, his breathing quickening.

I was crying, of course, so traummyd, but I couldn't scream because of the curse, and I didn't understand. Why!? _WHY_!? Randomly getting raped on my way to school; what had I done to deserve such punishment!? Had my love for Cedric been discovered!?

"Bellatrix, step aside," Voldemort suddenly ordered, fumbling with his robes and belts impatiently.

"Master, you're not strong enough!" she pleaded, but there was urgency to her voice, not with an interest for her Lord's health, but only of jealousy. "Please, can't you…with me? Can't we…?"

Voldemort laughed loudly.

"With _you_, Lestrange?" he spat. "Please! Don't insult me. Your family tree has grown infected, and the poison has been left to spread, unpruned. Why would I ever with you, when such…such purity, the Timperley name…Mmm, yeah…Daddy."

_Daddy!?_ His words became incoherent as he closed in on me, and Bellatrix receded into the shadows, sulking.

"I must pro-create, the Marvolo line must live on! Salazar! Timperley! The mixing of two great blood lines."  
Fear gripped me.

"_Hessiah hassa heth_! Widen her!" The snake began to slide towards me at Voldemort's bidding, as if under _Imperio_, and even though I struggled at first, at the snake nudging my vagina with its cold skull to make room for the Dark Lord, at this bestiality, it suddenly dawned upon me that pro-creating with the Dark Lord could potentially be an honour more great than any other.

_Hmm, fucked by the Dark Lord. That's really interesting_. I grew docile.

"Oh, oh…How embarrassing," Voldemort muttered, and if he had _warm_ blood I'm sure he'd have blushed, for he looked down at his lifeless dick, ashamed. It looked like Gilderoy Lockhart's "_Brackium Imendo_" charm gone horribly wrong, like it did on Saint Potter's arm in the 2nd year.

_Oh…my God…_

Bellatrix raised a dark brow, suppressing a laugh. Even the snake stopped its dutiful foreplay that _no one_ was enjoying, to take an amused look.

"Yes, well…Errr. When _your_ soul is split into 7 pieces, _you_ try getting a hard on, impertinent child!" he hissed. "_Accio dick_!" His love-wand rose upwards, straining against the skin as far as it could go. "_Immobulus_!" And it froze there. "Pretty cool, huh?" Voldemort grinned happily, proud of himself.

I forced myself to give a half-hearted smile at his faux-erection.

"The Dark Lord needs fear to get off, you stupid girl," Bellatrix seethed, making excuses for her master's limpness, like it was _my_ fault, like she could arouse him if it were only her. "You're enjoying it too much!"  
But I really wasn't, so Voldemort must seriously just be impotent. Rumours of his power, his strength, weren't so easily translated to the bedroom, or in this case, the Hogwart's Express compartment. Suddenly, the idea of getting slammed with Voldy's flaccid broom lost its appeal, and became quite boring. And with the snake now finishing the foreplay that the Dark Lord had been too lazy to do himself, I could anticipate this whole episode would be quite simulated, unpassionate, dutiful.

Bellatrix and Nagini watching us and muttering to each other excitedly in Parseltongue was also highly unromantic. It was really traumatising me.

The Dark Lord was upon me, doing me. Bellatrix was stroking his back and circling us, occasionally peering over our shoulders to watch closely the mechanics of it all. So…disgusting. If I had a voice I wouldn't have been screaming for help so much as I'd have been screaming at her to fuck…off?

"Cruuuucio! Cruuuuuuuucio!" Voldemort screamed in delight at no one in particular as he rode me like the new Nimbus 2001.

Suddenly, Cedric Diggory BURST in through the compartment doors, and hope lit up in my eyes. In the brief moment of shock that suspended the goings-on in the room, Cedric had his chance.

"_AVADA KEDAVRA_!" he shouted, and the curse hit Bellatrix Lestrange's naked body at full force, and then rebounded off her pale chest to hit Voldy, who was scurrying to pull his robes on to cover his shrivelled, undesirable body. They both swayed for a moment, before falling in a crumpled, nude heap on the floor. Nagini let out a low, sorrowful hiss, before performing one last, respectful duty for its master; it unhooked its jaw and began eating Voldemort's dead body. Slowly.

"Oh, Ced! Cedric!" I gushed, and he looked at me with a quizzical brow. I remembered that he knew me as a Slytherin, a bitch, and I fell back into character. "I…I mean, what are _you_ doing down here, Diggory? Why aren't you with your Mudblood girlfriend?" I pulled my emerald robes on quickly.

"I'm rescuing _you_, of course," he growled. Silence. "Or maybe, carrying on Voldemort's noble work…?"

"W-What?" And then Cedric declared his love for me and his aversion to Cho's dirty, unmagical, Chinga blood, and pulled a big, fat liquorice wand from his back pocket and approached me with a knowing look on his face. I must have looked like I had spattergroit or something, but I didn't notice, I saw my opportunity! I eyed his handsome features, and the candy wand, drooping in his hand, and outstretched my arms.

"Oh Ceddy, it's all I've ever wanted."  
And Nagini _watched_ as we had sex, leaving our own pile of liquorice wands and Butterbeer bottles on the seat as we left the train at Hogsmeade station, holding hands.

Maybe The Boy Who Lived was onto something, there.

The End.


End file.
